The Other Winchester {ON HOLD}

Chapter Forty-Nine: Blonde Bitch

The past few hunts I have been sitting out on. I tell them I wasn't felling well or I need to catch up on research. In reality, the whole witch thing has thrown me out of whack. I have done so much research and what has it gotten me? Jack squat, nadda, nothing zero. It is driving me up a good damn wall. I still have nightmares of them chanting Latin at me, and Sam has been giving me looks. To top it off, I was hiding everything from Dean. I felt so guilty about it. Dean has ben there for me my whole life, but I am too damn scared to tell him this. 

Right now we were at a bar. The boys were working a case in Chicago. Luckily, no one remembered me and Dean from we were there and caused some chaos. Dean was talking to a bartender, flirting with her for "Info". Sam was sitting with me looking through the Journal and Hunter was next to me. The boys got a Service dog outfit for Hunter so he can come with us. I take a sip of my beer and groan.

"Sam, enough with the damn stares." I growl.

"Kat, you need to tell him." Sam stated.

"Like you told him right away with your visiony thing?" I snapped. 

"But I eventually told him. The longer you hold out, the angry he will be when he finds out. It better be from you too." I go to speak but Dean comes to the table.

"I talked to the bartender." Dean tells us.

"Did you get anything?" Sam asks.

"Besides her number?" I smirk. Dean leans back.

"Dude, I'm a professional. I'm offended that you would think that. " I look at Sam then back at him. We gave him the really look. He pulls out a napkin with a number on it. "All right, yeah." I chuckle.

"You mind doin' a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?" Sam asks as a joke. Dean rolls his eyes.

" Huh? Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died, so—what about that symbol, you find anything?" Dean asks him. Sam looks through the pages.

"Nope, nothing. It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess." Sam says as he closes the Journal.

" Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?"

"Right. Yeah." He pulls out a newspaper clipping. "His name was, uh—his name was Ben Swardstrom. Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal—the door was locked, the alarm was on."

"Is there any connection between the two of them?"

"Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least. Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds."

"So, to recap, the only successful intel you both have scored so far is the bartender's phone number." I joke.

"Would be easier with some help Kat." Dean says as he takes a swig of his beer. Sam suddenly gets up and walks away.

"Sam?" I call. He walks over to a blonde girl and puts his hand on her shoulder. She turns and smiles.

"Meg?" He says with surprise.

"Sam! Is that you? Oh, my God!" She says. The give each other a big hug. Me and Dean look at each other confused. We get up and walk behind Sam. " What are you doing here?"

"I'm just in town, visiting friends." He tells her. She looks around.

"Where are they?"

"Well, they're not here right now, but what about you, Meg? I thought you were goin' to California." He seemed happy to see this girl.